


BURN! CRASH! ROMANCE!

by nascar



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drug Abuse, Friends With Benefits, M/M, australian! jeno, mentioned markhyuck - Freeform, to lovers!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:26:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22670965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nascar/pseuds/nascar
Summary: When Jeno is pushing Donghyuck into bed a few nights later, buzzed from his few shots at the pub they met up at, he pulls away to shuck off his own shirt and ask, “I thought you were just visiting, whose house is this?”Donghyuck pulls him back down for a moment to lick into his mouth sweetly before answering. “I grew up in Paris, this is my place.”Jeno doesn’t say anything after that, not really, he’s too busy with the handfuls of Donghyuck in his lap and the warm honey feeling in his stomach.It’s a little offbeat the way Donghyuck falls that night, for a fucking Australian boyband member.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Lee Jeno
Comments: 26
Kudos: 214





	BURN! CRASH! ROMANCE!

**Author's Note:**

> maybe you can have a little nascar update... as a treat + [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7poemIOPsukvlyzSXrXntZ?si=Vne0ClixR9-lR4y-HLopUQ)
> 
> SO FIRST: nohyuck's careers are a little like. if jeno was in 5sos and if hyuck was.. frank ocean?? yes.
> 
> hehe ANYWAYS but this is for the loml cynthia & the sole reason this au exists!!! happy birthday 2 u!!!
> 
> this fic was very hard to get out after not writing for so long & it may feel a little disappointing compared to the last things i wrote but pls be nice to me <3__<3 if it's not clear: this isn't exactly "linear" it's just a few scenes over the course of western celebrity nohyuck's life of fame&love lol also DISCLAIMER there is mention of cocaine if that makes u uncomfortable dont read!!!
> 
> quick thank u to cynth again! & ash for looking over this for me <3 and to all my followers who i tortured for weeks about this au

The first time Donghyuck sees him in person he’s at the Grammy’s, suit collar against his throat and eyes shining under a thousand decorative LEDs. Donghyuck shifts in his seat uncomfortably, eyes on him. He almost misses it when he wins Album of the Year and Jaemin has to elbow him out of his seat, laughing at him. Donghyuck cries on that stage, the whole world watches. 

**Hyuck Lee** @FULLSUN ᐧ 54s 27 JANUARY 2019 

**@leejeno** you’re so so selfish. you’re going to have that body your whole life and i just want it for one night 

  
  


Donghyuck’s phone slips out of his hand and onto the house when Jaemin and Jisung drop onto him, both equally as smashed. The room swims for a moment and purple lights flash like little neon atom bombs while something from dinner crawls up his throat. 

**LEEJENO** @leejeno ᐧ 21s 27 JANUARY 2019

bet 

  
  


The notification flashes on his phone screen for just a few moments but it’s enough for Donghyuck to know he’s going to need another shot. 

Shit. 

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


The second time Donghyuck sees Jeno he’s waiting for his flight to Paris at LAX by order of his manager to get some hard earned vacation time. He doesn’t realize the boy is there until he’s right in front of him, like those bull sharks on the aquarium live cams, Donghyuck’s heart isn’t expecting it and  _ rattles _ . 

“Donghyuck!” Jeno greets him, like he  _ knows _ him. “How are you? I wanted to congratulate you on your win! You seemed busy though.” He’s got these big eyes that turn into half moons when he smiles kindly and Donghyuck is reviewing the top three emergency exits when Jaemin’s teasing voice floats into his head and he finds his voice. 

“Jeno, hi! Thank you,” he sounds scared, damnit. 

There’s sunlight pouring through the glass wall to their left and it fires Jeno up in all the right places. Donghyuck has never noticed how long his eyelashes are. 

Jeno laughs, eyes disappearing into his smile. “Where are you headed?”

Donghyuck, adjusts his bag, hand fiddling with the string in his pocket, and tells him. 

“Paris?” Jeno asks, surprised. “Me too! I’ve got a friend’s wedding to go to.”

And that’s how: 

  
  


When Jeno is pushing Donghyuck into bed a few nights later, buzzed from his few shots at the pub they met up at, he pulls away to shuck off his own shirt and ask, “I thought you were just visiting, whose house is this?”

Donghyuck pulls him back down for a moment to lick into his mouth sweetly before answering. “I grew up in Paris, this is my place.” 

Jeno doesn’t say anything after that, not really, he’s too busy with the handfuls of Donghyuck in his lap and the warm honey feeling in his stomach. 

It’s a little offbeat the way Donghyuck falls that night, for a fucking Australian boyband member. 

  
  


/

  
  
  


After that they start meeting up regularly. Sometimes for lunch, sometimes for an afternoon in Jeno’s bedroom. They always try their best to keep quiet while Jeno’s bandmates dick around in the living room. Donghyuck ends up against the back of club walls, part of the big pretty picture of poster collages, tasting the artificial sweet of Jeno’s mouth and shaking when Jeno’s voice catches on his accent. 

“You’re gorgeous,” Jeno tells him one night, accent thick and heady, and Donghyuck holds on like Jeno means those words. Like he really really means it. 

But he doesn’t because in March Jeno is laughing in the face of the reporter that asks the big fat glaring elephant in the room question: “You and Donghyuck Lee have been seen out together quite a few times Jeno, is there something you two aren’t telling us?” 

“Gosh no,” He smiles, like he’s being nice about it, but he’s not and the pixels of his aggressive smile are numbing, “We’re just friends.” Donghyuck feels the poison spread over his face and he deletes the app.

He remembers that in April when Jeno comes back from Sydney and asks if Donghyuck wants to go out somewhere. Donghyuck remembers the metallic taste in his mouth when Jeno said  _ we’re just friends, that’s all _ . So he tells Jeno to just meet him at his flat and they do what they do best. 

He remembers that when he lets Mark fuck him like a friend the next week, when he closes his eyes he sees how Jeno looked down at him and told him he belonged there. 

  
  


/

  
  
  


He lets Jeno trick him into spending the night again and again and again. He lets Jeno trick him into doing things that entirely don’t involve having sex like bungee jumping, and walks in the park, and frozen yogurt, and late night doordash from Macca’s, whatever the fuck that is. 

He lets Jeno do a lot and sometimes when Jeno kisses him, square on the mouth, when they aren’t fucking, he thinks he’d let Jeno do anything. 

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


“You need to take better care of yourself,” Jeno tells Donghyuck once, propping up a bag of take out on Donghyuck’s kitchen counter. The table is covered in notebooks and chicken scratch lyrics. Donghyuck is barely awake, face in his work, half baked in a fever dream with wet eyes and rosy cheeks. He’s coming down with something bad. This is going to hold the album up even longer. 

He hears himself say something about needing to work on the album but a hand is under his back and he’s being airlifted to his bedroom. 

“You’re taking a sickie today,” Jeno tells him, cheek against Donghyuck’s forehead like he’s checking for a fever. 

He doesn’t even notice he’s been moved until he’s propped up in bed and being spoon-fed egg drop soup. 

“Jen?” Donghyuck blinks, a bit of broth dribbling down his chin. His head feels like it’s going to explode. 

“Hey,” Jeno smiles like he’s nervous, with these big saucer eyes, wiping Donghyuck’s chin with a napkin. “How’re you feeling?” 

Donghyuck just groans, rolling his head back onto his pillow. “What are you doing here?” 

Jeno doesn’t answer for a second, setting the bowl down on the table by the bed. Tomie leaps off the foot of the bed into Jeno’s lap. Donghyuck watches him cooly through his lashes as Jeno scratches her between the ears. 

Jeno ducks to kiss her and then turns his gaze on Donghyuck, incinerating the fever right out of him.“I haven’t seen you in a while.” 

  
  


/

  
  


Mark and Jaemin invite themselves over for the weekend that Donghyuck has off. He doesn’t realize how long it’s been until Renjun pulls up a screenshot of an article about Donghyuck sighted with Jeno. “So what, you go hide off in Paris and you fuck a band?”

Donghyuck groans into his pillow, hiding his face and Jaemin laughs. “You bitch, you stupid bitch oh my god you fucking-- you whore.” Donghyuck kicks him off the bed and he lands on the floor still cackling. “You fucked a boyband.”

Donghyuck tries telling him he only fucked one of them but it’s futile, Jaemin’s back on a roll. 

They all pretend not to notice how Mark stays quiet. 

  
  
  


/

  
  


Jeno likes surprises, he’s like a child, really. 

Donghyuck does not, and he almost cries when he shuffles into his apartment, flips on the light, and is thrown into a frenzy of confetti, balloons and “ _ Happy Birthday! _ ”

He hides his face in Jeno’s neck as soon as he gets him in his hands, hiding from the rest of the party, so nobody can see him cry. It has nothing to do with the way that Jeno seems like the safest person in the room to him. Which in itself, might just be even more dangerous. 

“Hey kid,” Jeno smiles into the top of his head, “Twenty-three.”

Donghyuck nods, twenty-three.

  
  


/

  
  


Jeno makes himself at home in Donghyuck’s apartment, and part of him, a big part, doesn’t mind one bit.

He likes it when he wakes up and Jeno’s gross slobber is leaking onto his pillow. He likes it when he goes to brush his teeth in the morning and almost trips over the towel that Jeno can never seem to just  _ hang up  _ after using it. He likes it, even more, when Jeno, drowsy and unfiltered joins him in the shower, arms around Donghyuck’s waist, murmuring something about saving water into the juncture of Donghyuck’s shoulder. 

“Good morning,” Donghyuck greets him, amused, leaning back into him, liking the way the spray of water combines with their shared body heat. 

Jeno just hums, licking over the condensation on Donghyuck’s skin, tongue poking out like a kitten. 

It’s when Donghyuck has a shaky hand in Jeno’s hair, head thumping back against the shower wall, lips swollen and misted, that he thinks, no, he really doesn’t mind at all. 

  
  
  


/ 

  
  
  


Donghyuck won’t admit it but he’s terrified of Jeno’s bandmates. On the mornings that Jeno tugs him out of bed for breakfast after an early round, they’re always there, watching with keen eyes. He follows Jeno around like some sort of pathetic lost animal, clinging to the back of his hoodie. 

“Question,” one of them asks after a morning that Donghyuck would not peg as his proudest moment, “is Jeno really that good in bed?”

Jeno gives him a look, “C’mon mate stop scaring him.”

Donghyuck melts through the floor and Jeno asks him if he wants to hang out in his room until he’s done cooking for them. 

Spoiler: he does. 

  
  


/

  
  
  


“I miss you,” Jeno tells him on facetime one night, probably on accident. 

Donghyuck is locked in place for a few seconds, unseeing. There’s something liquidy about his brains when he shuffles in bed and feels his whole head tilt unevenly. It’s a little like drowning. 

He hasn’t said anything for a moment, too long. Static buzz takes up the empty space in his chest. Jeno doesn’t mean it in a way that means something, he doesn’t  _ mean it _ mean it. 

_ Hyuck? Are you tired? _

Donghyuck finds himself shaking his head, and licking over his bottom lip before asking, “What are you doing right now?” 

  
  


When Donghyuck was sixteen, his father died and he became an orphan. The whole world swallowed him up and just like that he ended up on the doorstep of his first foster home. 

They never lasted long, just a few weeks at most. Until he turned seventeen and the adoption papers were signed. He had his own room for the first time in months, the loft of a Parisian townhouse. 

His new family consisted of his father, his two new twin brothers aged twelve and Mary, who his father had recently started seeing. They’d been married by the time Donghyuck went off for college. 

Though he loves his family, his teenage years were enough to send the message: nothing lasts.  _ Nobody _ lasts.

  
  


/

  
  
  


Mark doesn’t treat him so gently anymore. His hands feel rough when he moves Donghyuck onto his stomach, harsh when he presses his face into the pillow. He’s different when he doesn’t kiss Donghyuck on the mouth right after. 

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


Jeno is peach sweet and just too pretty when he presses into the bruises on Donghyuck’s hips like he’s sorry they’re even there. Donghyuck is too, sorry. 

“Do you like these?” Jeno asks, a little curious, a little upset. His voice comes out soft and sad. 

Donghyuck doesn’t, so he says that. He shakes his head and burns a little because he’s ashamed that Jeno can see just what ruined looks like. He’s reminded of the linens his father, his  _ real  _ father, used to hang out back by the orchard. The way they hung in the wind like friendly ghosts. The way precious silk looks when Donghyuck just didn’t know any better and pulls the sheet through the trees until it was tired and sad with holes ripped through the middle. 

Switches on bare skin turned berry blue and hurt like how thunder felt. He never touched those linens again, not till the day his father ended up in the dirt with his very own silk sheets lining cherrywood. Six feet under and those sheets probably still have dirt in them. 

And Jeno doesn’t like that. 

“I won’t touch you like that,” Jeno tells him, tasting honest when he slicks over Donghyuck’s mouth, a little gross and a little precious. It’s a promise.

  
  


Jeno’s freezer has spoons in it after that. He’s got cold spoons when Donghyuck comes crawling back into his bed, feeling like regret. He holds them to the crayola blue on Donghyuck’s stomach, knees, throat, legs, he’s got cold on him until he’s back to Donghyuck colored. 

  
  
  
  


/

  
  
  


Donghyuck promises himself to stop calling Mark when he feels like this: empty. Mark isn’t that shiny little piece of dayglow from film school anymore, he’s changed. He draws in on himself these days, melts away like rice candy when Donghyuck doesn’t come home until late. 

Donghyuck knows, he knows what Mark doesn’t want to say, what he knows Donghyuck knows. That what they have is indestructible and unfixable and it’s hurting. 

When Jeno drops Donghyuck off with a kiss on his cheek and a hand in his hair, Mark disappears onto the balcony and doesn’t come back in until he smells like night air and his cheeks are glossy pink. 

  
  
  


/

  
  
  
  


The next album comes out in winter and Jeno immediately texts him, even though his last three messages have been left unanswered. 

**jen <3**

just listened to it, this is something special hyuck

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


Jeno has a knack for finding Donghyuck. He’s like a bloodhound with a confusing little heart. Donghyuck is fucking around at Jaemin’s afterparty, a few shots down and a table tennis racket in his hand. 

“Hey,” Jeno says, warm against his neck when he finds him like he’s making sure he’s got the right Donghyuck. The one that doesn’t push him away and leave him on read for days. 

Donghyuck turns around, sinking in how familiar Jeno’s body heat is, like it’s imprinted in his mind since the prehistoric era, his cells know Jeno. 

They do it in Jaemin’s guest room, door locked and ceiling fan still going. There’s a cool breeze when Jeno’s fingertips brush over the backs of his knees, the knobs in his spine, the space behind his ears when he’s being pulled in again. 

  
  
  


/

  
  


He means it when he wants to end things with Mark. They can’t give each other what they want. It’s just hard to talk, cotton-mouthed when Mark shows up at his door after Donghyuck had texted him to come over. 

He finds himself silent when Mark gets to it. He undresses Donghyuck with the window still open, no words necessary. He blanks out for a moment, words still stuck in his throat when Mark and him are connected, close and warm but not meeting each other's eyes. 

Not even when Donghyuck is whining softly into his pillow, so used to this it’s almost second nature. 

There’s a deep bruise somewhere on Donghyuck’s shoulder that Mark finds. He knows it’s Jeno’s. That’s the only time Mark looks him in the eyes, before pressing his thumb into it and pushing Donghyuck further up the bed with how aggressive it gets him. 

When they’re done, Donghyuck boneless and guts tangled in anxiety, Mark asks, “Are you dating him?”

Donghyuck still can’t fucking talk and Mark laughs bitterly at that. “Yeah, Okay.” 

Mark doesn’t say anything after that. He just stares out the open window, unlike how soft moonglow looks on Jeno, the moon makes Mark look cold, untouchable and angry. 

That’s when Donghyuck is able to ask Mark to leave, when he’s not Mark anymore. Tells him to go home. 

Mark’s eyes look like glass when he asks the golden question. “Why? Is he coming over?”

Donghyuck sucks in a breath, chest igniting like he’s got barbed wire in there somewhere. “I’m just upset, Mark. You’re upsetting me.”

“You’re the one who told me to come over Hyuck. You asked for me to be here, and now you want me gone. Have you ever fucking thought to youself that maybe this,” he gestures wildly between them, “this isn’t fair for me either.”

Donghyuck’s tears are cold against his cheeks. “That’s why I’m telling you to go Mark. Please just go.” He wipes his cheek with his sleeve, wondering why this is so hard, why he has to pull his knees up to his chest to not fall apart. 

The sound that comes out of Mark is harsh and unnatural. “You--,” he restarts. “You can’t use me whenever you want to detach yourself from whoever you’re seeing. Has it even fucking crossed your mind that you’re basically cheating on him?” Mark runs his hands through his hair, still sweaty and sticking out wildy. “Are you really that dense?”

That does nothing but make Donghyuck feel even more guilty for what they’ve been doing. He didn’t mean for it to happen this way, he was just frozen, he’s always frozen. 

He’s frozen when Mark steps forward and grabs his face with one hand, “Or do you even care that you’re whoring yourself out behind his back?”

Donghyuck grasps for his arm but Mark moves back like Donghyuck’s hands are the most painful thing he’s ever felt. 

“I’m--” Donghyuck hiccups abruptly, voice thick, “I’m not  _ whoring _ myself, I, Mark I’ve only been with  _ you _ . You’re my best friend, Mark.”

The moon outside seems to glow impossibly bright and harsh for the next moment that Mark says, “I don’t want to be.”

The air is vacuumed out of the room while Donghyuck struggles to get his words out, stuttering. “You know we can’t be more than friends.”

Mark stands there for another moment, fight sinking out of his shoulders. 

“I’m sorry, Mark.”

“What does Jeno have that I don’t,” Mark asks him, voice cracking. “What makes him so fucking good for you if you’re here with me right now.”

Donghyuck shakes his head. “It’s not that Mark. You’re perfect, you’re just not for me okay? Why can’t that be good enough?” 

Mark looks at him long and hard, like he’s not used to looking at Donghyuck. 

“Call me if you get your head out of your ass,” Mark tells him, “Don’t invite me to the wedding.”

And then Donghyuck’s best friend is gone.

  
  


/

  
  
  


**jen <3** 12:32 AM

I don’t have anyone here like you 

Jeno texts him one night, all the way from Australia, while they’re talking about their plans for the weekend. 

**Jen <3** 12:32

I haven’t slept with anyone since you. 

Donghyuck feels like throwing up. 

He remembers knocking on the door to his father’s study when he was younger, sitting on his lap and telling him, “I don’t want friends here. I want my old friends.” 

There was a moment of silence as while Donghyuck waited for him to finish the sentence he was writing before he wrapped an arm around Donghyuck more securely and asked, “Why’s that sunshine?” 

Donghyuck, only twelve, with chubby cheeks and his striped red shorts isn’t equipped to answer that question, so he does the next best thing. He cries. 

Donghyuck’s crying in his bed, 5,642 miles from Paris, 8,152 miles from Jeno and impossibly far away from anything that could possibly make him feel, not bad. 

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


It’s a week after the text and the girl Donghyuck has over for the night answers the door in the morning, still in Donghyuck’s shirt. 

His heart drops when he sees who it is. 

“Do you let everyone that sleeps in your bed wear that shirt?” Jeno asks like he wants it to hurt, and it does. 

Donghyuck doesn’t know what to say, he  _ never does. _ He doesn’t know how to get the words out. That he didn’t what? Sleep with her? He didn’t but he’s aware of how it looks and before he can think of a way to tell him: 

Jeno leaves. Then, when the girl goes home Donghyuck sits on the couch in his boxers and cries into his hands until he’s dead.

When he wakes up he texts Jeno. He texts him worthless apologies and half-assed attempts at I’m sorry, but he doesn’t even know what line he crossed. It’s hard to figure out when their relationship was comprised of let’s not talk about it. Shaky foundations lead to a shaky house and Donghyuck’s whole roof caves in when his messages stop being delivered because  _ Jeno blocked him _ . 

That night, Donghyuck packs for Paris, careful to leave each of Jeno’s shirts carefully folded in his bottom drawer, terrified of remembering that look on his face. Doe eyed and red nosed. 

He tells himself he’s not running away. This is his job, he was leaving soon anyways. He has business to take care of in Paris. 

He leaves a note, for Jeno, kind of. 

_ I’m going to Paris, I’m not sure what’s happening with us _

_ but I think I messed up. I won’t force you into this if it isn't _

_ what you want. Jaemin has the key if you need anything. _

  * Hyuck 



  
  


/

  
  
  


Jeno comes home with a girl, she’s nice. Long legs, sweet smile, great ass. Like Donghyuck, really. That doesn’t matter though because the note on his dresser has him stopping short. He can’t stop reading it, eyes blurring and his hands go numb. It’s official, Donghyuck is gone.

Chenle calls him later, asking if he got home safe and Jeno’s still on the bathroom floor, hiccuping up hot tears and wanting to vomit. 

“He’s gone,” He tells Chenle, “He left me. Donghyuck left me.” 

“What are you talking about?”

“Donghyuck, he’s fucking gone. This morning, I saw him this morning and we fought. He left me.”

There’s a quiet from the other end of the line while the room spins dangerously like it’s going to swallow Jeno up. 

“Slow down, Jen. Are you alone right now?” Jeno nods until he realizes Chenle can’t see him and he lets out a low sigh. 

“Yeah.”

There’s some rustling on the other end of the line before Chenle tells him to stay still, “I’m on my way.” 

  
  
  


/

  
  
  
  


Paris is beautiful this time of year but it’s hard to enjoy when all Donghyuck can do is pick at his shoelaces and hope his manager doesn’t look up from her computer to see him moping like the world’s most impressive case of The Blues. 

His prayers go unanswered though because he’s only able to wallow in his sadness for so long before she catches him staring off the balcony into the dark inky abyss of his soul and orders him to take a shower or go on a jog. 

“At least put some of that to good use and write us another platinum album,” she nags, not without good humor. 

She smiles a bit when Donghyuck grumbles something about his album going platinum out of pity when he dies of horrible horrible heartbreak. 

He rolls over in the chair with a groan, a bit of the heavy weight on his chest chips away with the familiarity of their banter. 

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


It’s been two weeks since Donghyuck left when Jeno decides (read: is forced) to get out of bed and attend one of Hollywood’s famed rager afterparties, for appearances. There’s a lot of people he knows there, there’s also subsequently a lot of people he  _ doesn’t _ know and he gets lost within the first fifteen minutes. 

He mostly hugs to the wall, nursing a cup of something genuinely evil that has him coughing into his fist after the first gulp. 

He’s almost survived the first hour without incredible injury when they play one of Donghyuck’s songs and Jeno decides he needs to get shitfaced, ASAP. He knows about the backroom at parties like this. He knows about the powder lines and clouds of smoke. 

Donghyuck has dragged him into these circles several times before, only ever to get high. Nothing hard, never anything hard with his Donghyuck. Careful Donghyuck with his big brown eyes and shiny cheeks. 

So it’s not completely foreign the way the room settles around him, full of heat and something mind-numbing in the air. Not too foreign the way cut ivory looks in lines against the glass coffee table. 

It’s only a little fucked up when he gives in. When he lets himself forget Donghyuck and fall into the white instead. 

Only a little fucked up when it’s been two more weeks and he’s cutting his own lines semi-regularly because it’s the only thing that gets Donghyuck out of his fucking head.

Just a bit more when the band starts to notice because he’s got nosebleeds on the front of his shirt and his guitar starts cutting up his fingertips. 

He stops going out completely when the rumors start. Donghyuck has a boyfriend in Paris. 

Elusive Star Lee Donghyuck spotted in Paris with a Secret Lover?

Trending in United States ˇ

#Donghyuckboyfriend

71.5k Tweets

Lee Donghyuck Moves on From His With Fling Jeno QUICK!

  
  


What’s Happening

Celebrity ⋅ 1 hour

People can’t get over Lee Donghyuck’s Parisian Hottie

_ She _ comes back in the second month. Jeno’s ex-girlfriend. They’d only dated for two weeks but it’d been enough for Jeno to realize their relationship was bordering on mass destruction and he’d cut it off pretty quick after that.

They hadn’t talked since he’d had her take down the pictures from their relationship. Ones that’d never been released before she put them out days after someone had gotten a whiff of something going on between him and Donghyuck. The insinuating drama that came after was enough to have her number blocked for good. 

She’s back with drugs and a smile that makes Jeno curl into a ball during late nights, hands shaking with the need for more. The need for Donghyuck. 

  
  


/

  
  


The weather gets warmer and Donghyuck is able to get out of bed on the better days. It makes his manager happy to see the progress but he can still tell he has a long way to go. 

There are things he needs to sort out, feelings to process, but he’s better. 

His friends from home have dropped by a few times. Lucas, his best friend from their high school basketball team takes him out for a walk every now and then, all reassuring smiles and a comforting hand on his back. He’s still tall, overbearing and sweet. He’s a good friend, but Donghyuck can’t even have this without the media diving in and ripping his reputation to shreds over it. 

His manager leaves the magazine on his table. It’s a picture of him and Lucas from one of their cafe outings. Lucas is leaning in, a smile playing on his lips while he whispers something to Donghyuck. It’s not much but it’s so incriminating. 

LEE DONGHYUCK: SERIAL PLAYER? OVER JENO LEE AND ONTO HIS NEXT!

He doesn’t realize the tears are slipping over his cheeks until Lucas takes one look at him and clicks his tongue and tilts his head to the side, eyes sympathetic. Donghyuck crying isn’t an unusual sight lately. 

“Qu'est faux?”  _ What’s wrong? _

Donghyuck shakes his head, feeling suffocated and vulnerable. Lucas picks up the magazine cover, eyebrows furrowed before realizing their mistake. 

“Oh Donghyuck,” he coos, voice as quiet as it’s ever been, arms opening. Donghyuck sinks.

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


“Whatever happened to that boy you were talking to?” Donghyuck’s manager asks one morning over breakfast. 

“What do you mean?” Donghyuck halts his spoon of yogurt in mid-air, knees turning rubber.

She clicks her tongue and looks up at the ceiling before turning away from him and deposits her plate into the sink. “Amongst us managers, with his recent disappearance and all--”

“Disappearance?” Donghyuck interjects, dropping his spoon back into his bowl. 

She makes a face at his impatience but continues anyway, “I don’t think he’s made a public appearance in about a month. Honestly, it wouldn’t be a huge surprise to find he may have found his way into some dangerous circles. There’s a rumor going that he may be on drugs.” 

She settles back into the seat opposite Donghyuck, opening the newspaper back up like she hadn’t just dropped reality shattering information. 

Donghyuck feels submerged, icy and uncomfortable. Jeno isn’t like that. Is he? He’s a good boy, a careful boy. He’d never get into anything like that. His older brother had an accident when he was younger, an overdose. He’d told Donghyuck about it, in the early morning where the moonlight was still slatted through the window over their intertwined pinkies. 

“I never want to end up like that,” Jeno told him.

_ Promise? _

Jeno had stared at him for a moment, eyes glassy. “Promise.”

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


To his surprise, or not, Chenle picks up on the second ring. “Donghyuck?” He gets right to the point, as usual.

“How is he?”

There’s a sound like he’s sucking in a breath. “Bad, he’s bad. I think he’s addicted.” He lets the breath go. “There’s a girl here, she’s been feeding the shit to him like it’s fucking candy. He’s been screaming for hours, I think he finally passed out. We can’t keep lying to everyone about this.”

There’s a moment where he’s quiet and neither of them are saying anything until Donghyuck wonders, “How could you let him get this bad? Why did nobody tell me?” Donghyuck feels like one of those Chinese lanterns, burning from the inside out and his lungs are papery and smoking when he gets his answer:

“To be completely honest with you, he’s a grown adult, Donghyuck. He can make his own decisions, I’m his friend, not his damn babysitter.” There’s a moment of silence where all the ions are sucked from the air, “and I’m not the one who left him here all alone. I’m not the one who broke his heart and ran away to Paris so I wouldn’t have to fix it.”

Donghyuck stares at the ceiling and tells him he’ll be back in the morning. Tells Jeno to hold on just a little longer, he’s coming. 

  
  
  
  


/ 

  
  
  
  


Donghyuck punches in the key code with a shaky thumb and his sleeves keep slipping down over his hands. 

“Jeno?” He calls, opening the door and immediately almost tripping over a pile of clothes. 

There’s no response except for the sound of the A/C kicking on and Donghyuck is hit with the unfamiliar smell of must and vodka. 

That only motivates him further to venture into the living room from the suffocating hallway. 

“Jen?” He feels unsure. Something is wrong and the hairs on the back of his neck are rising. He starts to think he shouldn’t be here. This isn’t their place anymore, it more resembles a tomb. 

Then, it’s dark but he can make out the figure of Jeno on the couch. He almost falls to his knees in the awful realness of white on the coffee table, red on jeno, black everywhere else. 

“ _ What did you do _ ?”

Jeno’s unfocused eyes seem to find him, then, reaching out: “You’re such a beautiful angel.” 

  
  
  
  


/

  
  


The first thing Jeno says when he wakes up from a stifling heat, hospital sheets stiff and crackly, with Donghyuck’s hand brushing his is  _ are you leaving? _

Donghyuck holds his cheek in his palm, eyes impossibly hurt and too bright and tells him  _ never again. _

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


Donghyuck feels a bit like a guard dog for the week after that, hackles raised, biting and growling at anything that comes too close to Jeno. 

When they’re leaving Jeno’s place, packed with the clothes and other things Donghyuck is sure he’ll need in Paris,  _ she _ shows up. 

“What are you doing here?” she asks, nails scratching against the door frame, she hangs there for a moment, heavy and oppressive. And Donghyuck fucking hates Jeno’s exes.

Jeno perceptibly tenses, so unlike himself. 

“You aren’t welcome here,” Donghyuck tells her, shouldering Jeno and holding him closer. It’s probably a ridiculous sight, him protecting Jeno like this, what with Jeno being a head taller and naturally broader than Donghyuck himself. That doesn’t really matter though. 

Jeno turns his face into Donghyuck’s neck like he’s ashamed of her, and maybe a crueler part of Donghyuck would have been satisfied with that. Happy to see Jeno admitting he still needs Donghyuck to protect him. Donghyuck is tired of fighting though, he’s tired of all the insidious packaging around his train-wreck little heart and the only thing he wants is for Jeno to be safe. 

She fixes him with a cold stare before switching her attention to Jeno. 

“Did your pity fuck come back to save you Jeno? Are you gonna get better now? Why? Because you fuck buddy is back to the rescue--”

“Don’t talk to him,” Donghyuck cuts her off, his voice comes out impressively cold, “You have thirty seconds to get out of my sight before I call security.”

Even she knows that there’s a line she can’t cross here, the paparazzi is undoubtedly just outside those lobby doors and pictures surfacing of her being escorted out of Jeno’s building by security isn’t favorable. 

She laughs bitterly, taking an exaggerated step backward. “Guess you’ve made up your mind. Just remember who was here for you when he ditches you again.”

Jeno makes a little noise against Donghyuck’s collar like he’s pained. 

“Get out.” It’s final. “If you want to talk, you can say plenty in court when you’re charged with possession, attempted murder by distribution, and the restraining order you’re going to have on your ass for the rest of your miserable life.”

When Donghyuck shoulders past her, into the hall, he feels the bridge of Jeno’s nose along his jaw and warmth against his throat where Jeno’s breath feels like spring. 

“Thank you,” Jeno whispers. 

Something in Donghyuck blooms. 

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


When Donghyuck wakes up, it’s to a room so dark he can’t tell if his eyes are open. He feels his cheek in the dirt, cold soil against his face and the air around him is so humid he swears he can feel skin on him. 

He’s back home under the floorboards, begging for an out and his mother is gone. His father is invisible and Donghyuck’s got bloody hands from pulling at the nails. He’s alone until he isn’t and Jeno turns over in bed, wrapping an arm around Donghyuck, face pressed between his tense shoulder blades. 

“Sleep,” he says like it’s that simple. So, Donghyuck lets it be that simple and sleeps.

  
  


/

  
  
  


It’s hard. There are moments where Donghyuck isn’t sure they’re fixable at all. Moments where Jeno’s too thin and the bags under his eyes are too apparent and the whole world sinks in on their shoulders. Moments where Jeno can’t do anything but scream into his pillow and sob when he realizes he’s not getting it, he’s not getting his next dose because he’s done.

But there are other moments too. Moments where the early morning light is kind and Donghyuck is able to get Jeno out of the house long enough for coffee. When Jeno smiles for real again and there are apologies in every touch. They’re healing.

  
  
  


/

  
  


“I want this Jeno. I want it with you and I want it forever.”

“You can. I promise, Hyuck, you can.”

  
  


/

  
  
  


The words just slip out that morning in the kitchen. Jeno is pottering around the kitchen, putting together breakfast while Donghyuck perched atop the counter, eyes big and following Jeno’s every movement.

It’s something to do with the way Jeno whistles while rifling through the cabinet, or maybe it’s how his eyes are still red from sleep or probably just the sigh and slump of his shoulders that remind Donghyuck that he’s breathing, alive, there in the kitchen and Donghyuck can reach out and touch him if he wants. And he wants. 

“Jen, I think I love you.” 

It’s a year later when they finally move out and the dent Jeno makes on the floor when he drops that pot is out of their lives for good. 

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


Donghyuck’s room back home is always a little smaller than he remembers it. It’s probably because the twins secretly stash away a lot of their items in the loft as storage. Donghyuck doesn’t mind too much though. Not when Jeno is kissing him into his childhood mattress, hot breath against his chest and throat. 

“Your room is just like you,” Jeno laughs, hand untucking Donghyuck’s shirt from his pants. He’s always been good at multitasking. 

Donghyuck is not and arches up into his touch, silently begging for what he knows Jeno is going to give him anyways. 

Donghyuck’s family is out for the afternoon, leaving Donghyuck and Jeno alone under the pretense of resting off the jet lag. Jeno has better ideas about how to spend their alone time though. 

“Shit,” Donghyuck sucks in when Jeno bites into him. “What are you? Teething?”

Jeno doesn’t respond, retiring to leaving as many marks as he can over the expanse of Donghyuck’s stomach. He’s too occupied with making Donghyuck squirm to pay their conversation any more attention. 

He meets Donghyuck’s eyes when he sinks lower and Donghyuck keens. 

/

  
  
  


“Have you always been so good at cooking?” Donghyuck’s stepmother asks Jeno, nodding at his rolled sleeves where he’s chopping parsley. 

Jeno laughs good-naturedly, shaking his head. 

“No actually, this is all Donghyuck. He taught me so I would have to cook for him.”

She seems to find that humorous because she lets out the same laugh that Donghyuck uses sometimes and Jeno is questioning whether or not she’s Donghyuck’s biological mother after all. 

“Sounds about right.” She hands Jeno a cloth, “I’m glad he has you. That boy can eat like nobody’s business.” 

Jeno smiles down at his hands as he wipes them down. He’s glad he has Donghyuck too.

  
  
  


/

  
  


The interview is grueling, for both of them. 

The host is condescending and her plastic smile almost hurts to look at but Jeno has always been the better one out of the two of them when dealing with pesky press. Donghyuck reserves himself to holding his tongue for most of the show while Jeno swipes over his knuckles soothingly. She seems to have a thing for nosy questions though and it’s getting harder to keep the passive smile on his face. 

“So,” she starts, eyes wide and provoking. Donghyuck meanly thinks that she resembles a weasel a bit. “Is there marriage in the future for you two?”

The question catches Donghyuck off guard, tensing and looking up at Jeno, who is looking right back at her with an imperceptible calm that Donghyuck so knows is bullshit. 

“Not right now,” Jeno tells her, “but… it is part of our future plans.”

There’s a bit of cheering from the live audience which does nothing for the butterflies erupting in Donghyuck’s stomach. He’s only got eyes on Jeno though, under the bright fluorescents, smiling like he was born to answer these questions. Donghyuck can’t help but stay transfixed. Marriage.  _ Future _ . Plans. 

It’s embarrassing how giddy it makes him. Jeno really isn’t leaving. They have  _ future plans.  _

The host goes to make a joke, asking “Was Donghyuck aware of this? He seems surprised.”

A twinge of anger rises up in Donghyuck’s chest but then Jeno is squeezing his hand and turning to look him in the face, all open and saccharine, and Donghyuck is placated for the moment. 

Without looking away he answers, “No I’m aware.”

Jeno gives him a smile, a private and open smile. 

“Ah,” she digresses, moving on before she’s caught gloating, “So about the infamous club pictures,” she prods. 

There’s a slideshow displayed on the screen that Donghyuck turns to look at. He at least has the decency to blush when the pictures appear. It’s them, Donghyuck and Jeno. On multiple occasions. There’s one from the met gala afterparty, speaking closely on the couch. One from Jaemin’s birthday, Donghyuck on Jeno’s lap, half asleep. Another from St. Patrick's day, against the wall, Jeno holding both of their drinks while he whispers something to Donghyuck. They’re embarrassingly endless and Donghyuck flushes involuntarily. 

Jeno saves the day like always, “What about them?” He smiles so serenely. 

She fixes him with a deadpan look that feels a bit out of context. “I just think it’s funny how you go out together,” she gestures between them, “to clubs… only to drink so little and then kiss even when surrounded by friends!” she looks to the audience for a laugh and the response is a little weak. 

Donghyuck’s hands sweat. “You must have a weird sense of humor.” 

She laughs, “Why do you say that?”

Jeno strokes the back of his hand, warning and reassurance. Donghyuck reaches for his water bottle before speaking. “Well we go out yes, we enjoy the atmosphere, we enjoy the company of our friends. The pictures are only taken at certain moments, we talk to our friends of course.” He pauses, “Otherwise as you would say, why even go outright?” 

There’s collective clapping and Jeno presses a sweet kiss to his temple, proud of him. 

Their host makes an exaggerated expression and covers her chest with her hand. “Wow,” she exhales, “Every time you come on the show you seem to know just what to say. Did you get media training?”

Donghyuck’s eyes narrow, setting his water back down, untouched. “No? I’m not media trained, I just have my manager. I just like to say what’s on my mind and keep what needs to be private, private.”

“Well you seem more well mannered than the last time I had you on here,” she laughs, switching her focus to Jeno. “Did you teach him this?”

Donghyuck recoils at her mention of his last interview with her, a few years back when he’d been a fresh-faced rookie in the industry with a hot head and a sharp tongue. 

Jeno shifts, holding Donghyuck closer. “He’s not a dog?” The statement comes out more incredulous than he probably intends. 

She slaps her knee like something is supremely hilarious about their interaction. “No, no, really, but he does resemble a puppy doesn’t he?”

Donghyuck’s face goes flat and he sinks into Jeno’s side, defeated, while his boyfriend carries the rest of the interview. 

  
  


/

  
  
  


It’s brought up again during Donghyuck’s tour. The crowd pulses, a flash of bright noise and kinetic energy. Donghyuck is holding Jeno’s hand up on stage, heartbeat throbbing through his palms. They’re screaming his name and it’s addictive. 

“Goodnight Atlanta!” His voice is everywhere, like God. “Next time we’re up here we might be  _ married _ .”

The world explodes and Donghyuck is thrust into the dark with Jeno warm against his side, under the stage, underworld. The crowd is still going crazy outside when Jeno kisses him square on the mouth and asks, “Did you mean it?”

Donghyuck ignores the call for a stage check and puts his face against the sticky skin of Jeno’s throat. 

“Yes, Jeno.  _ Yes _ .”

  
  


/

  
  
  


**renjunnie** 12:33AM

i wouldn’t have come on this godforsaken

tour with you if i had known how SHAMELESS 

you two are

please god make it stop these walls are so thin

hyuck im sorry whatever i did to you to 

deserve this

im traumatized 

did u call jeno daddy oh my god

  
  
  


/ 

  
  
  


In the end, or the beginning, it’s Jeno that gets down on one knee, in the middle of Donghyuck’s childhood bedroom. His eyes and nose are red from the cold he’s getting over and his hair is unwashed. He’s wearing Donghyuck’s high school class t-shirt and his own yellow boxers. 

“Marry me?” He asks, buzzing and lit up by the winter sunlight through the window panes. 

Donghyuck is in Jeno’s arms before he can even finish, heartbeat going at hummingbird speeds, breaking new records, loving Jeno just a little more. 

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


Jeno Lee is a man of values. Values that he stands by, lives by, kisses by. If his father had taught him anything useful besides how to change a bike-tire, it’s that values are important. It’s printed on a bumper sticker and slapped sideways on his father’s maroon 2010 Ford Focus. Your actions become your habits, Your habits become your values, Your values become your destiny. Then there’s a little creepy print of Gandhi next to it. 

The point is, Jeno has morals. Morals that inhibit him from doing things like committing murder, bullying the kids on the chess team in high school, and adultery. Morals that, almost prevent him from busting down his teenage son’s door to see what he’s up to because he’s got a  _ boy  _ in there.  _ Almost _ . 

Jeno stands in the open doorway for a second, hand on the doorknob, hard glare on his face as he examines the scene before him. The utterly innocent and unmistakably normal scene before him. “What are you doing in here?” he asks, as imposing as he can manage, sure that there must be something he’s missing. After all, this is Mark Lee’s son in his kid's room, and god knows the disaster those genes could lead to. 

The two boys look up from the bed after sharing a look with each other. Neil holds up the controller in his hand, confused and a little irritated with his father, “Playing games?”

There’s another second of awkward silence before Jeno nods seriously, considering his words. “Keep this door open.”

He exits his self-made bubble of hell quickly, making his way to the living room where Donghyuck is bouncing Ian on his knee. 

“Did you know they had the door closed?” Jeno asks him, whisper shouting. He pauses to plant a kiss on Donghyuck’s forehead before sinking down next to him. “Closed!”

Donghyuck laughs for a moment before setting Ian down to crawl amongst his newly demolished kingdom of color blocks and opens his arms for Jeno to lean into. 

“Tell me all about it baby” he pouts. 

Jeno can tell Donghyuck is making fun of him and he doesn’t care, because he smells nice, and they’re married, and he likes that. He likes their stupid designer couch and how comfortable it is when he snuggles in closer. 

“Gina was never like this!” He lies through his teeth. “Just yesterday we were dropping him off at soccer practice and now he’s got boys in his bed!”

Donghyuck laughs at that, smoothing his bangs off his forehead and Jeno curls into his touch, watching Ian viciously gnawing on his blocks fondly. But Jeno isn’t done. 

“And what is he now? Goth? Is that what this is? Are we dealing with a Goth phase? The music he listens to is so angry and I haven’t seen him dress in a color that isn’t black in weeks.” 

There’s a roughly stifled laugh that works itself out of Donghyuck and Jeno turns to look up at him. “What’s so funny love?”

Jeno loves it when Donghyuck looks at him like this, like he  _ adores _ him. “He’s only seventeen, Jen. You were just like him and you know that.” He leans down to kiss Jeno right between the eyes, like the sweetest bullet to the brain, ever. “Let’s let him live a little alright? We were so much worse.” 

Jeno pouts. “I don’t want them to grow up.”

Donghyuck smiles down at him, pressing a kiss to his mouth, a little awkward, off target because of the upside down angle but they make it work.

“Let’s have another then.”

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/crushcults) & [cc](https://curiouscat.me/crushcults)
> 
> feel free to talk to me in the comments!


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